Hazardous Material
by coveryoureyes
Summary: Bex had dealt with a lot of crap in her life. But a melodramatic god throwing a hissy fit and brainwashing her best friend? That's where she drew the line. "Rebecca 'Bex' Harmon (SB11-18), Clearance Level 6. Code name: Hazard. Not recommended. Temperamental, untrusting, erratic. Inability to fully control her mutation. Approved as a reserve if extreme circumstances call for it."
1. Chapter 1

Phil Coulson was a level headed man. His years as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D had done him well, prepared him for nearly any scenario that was to arise. The emergence of Thor in New Mexico – the confirmation of extraterrestrial life and the attack by technology that even S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't comprehend – was unexpected of course, but even something as extreme as that was in the range of events that he was able to compartmentalize and handle calmly.

But this – the capture and subsequent brainwashing of Clint and Selvig from that alien's insane brother– had thrown him off course. He was Barton's superior officer and had been his handler for nearly a decade, it was inevitable that their relationship had evolved beyond coworkers and into a close friendship. Natasha was also his charge, and the three of them made up Strike Team Delta. She had been harder to grow close to, but by now they were part of the closest thing to a family that he had.

Losing Clint to Loki's control, having to now consider him as a serious threat and enemy, was hard enough for him, but he was dreading having to tell Natasha the details as to why he was 'compromised'. However he had no time to spare.

The Avengers Initiative was being put into action.

Phil had been on hold for only a few seconds, and a small smile was brought to his face before he could suppress it at the sound of Natasha's quick elimination of the thugs she had been gathering information from.

As soon as the fight was over, she resumed their conversation, asking in a stressed but professional tone, "Where's Barton now?"

Regretfully he answered, "We don't know."

If it was anyone who didn't know Natasha they would have been unable to pick up on her worry, but Phil could hear her panic when she prompted, "But he's alive."

"We think so. I'll brief you on everything when you get back. But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."

"Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me."

"No, I've got Stark. You get the big guy."

He heard her swear under her breath at the mention of Banner. He was a brilliant scientist and they truly did need him for his knowledge on Gamma radiation, but it was admittedly a huge risk to bring such a volatile man onto the Helicarrier. S.H.I.E.L.D had taken precautions already, installing a room they hoped would be enough to contain the Hulk in case of an emergency, but even with the containment room it was a decision that had not been made lightly.

The inclusion of the second female S.H.I.E.L.D agent that would be joining the Avengers had also been a difficult decision, perhaps more so than the decision to include Bruce Banner. She had been denied for the Avengers prospects initially, but the situation before them was now dire, and they would be needing someone with her skill set.

Knowing that it was better to inform Natasha of that decision sooner as opposed to later, he cleared his throat and said as evenly as he could, "Agent Harmon will also be called in."

The silence that stretched between the two of them was awkward, rifled with tension, and he could imagine the glare that would be leveled at him if she was standing in front of him.

When she finally spoke her tone was low, dangerous even.

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. I was under the impression that she had been declared unfit for the group. Because obviously drafting Rebecca Harmon into the Avengers Initiative would be the most reckless, _intensely thoughtless_ -"

"The order came directly from Fury. It wasn't my decision to make. Besides, this will be good for her - getting her to interact with someone besides myself or Barton. Or Sarge."

"For god's sake Sarge is a _dog._ And it won't be good for everyone else. She will most likely _very_ literally kill Stark. You know as well as I do that Bex doesn't like working with others, let alone an entire team – she's called Hazard for a reason. Wasn't she _just_ suspended from field work for losing control over her…talents?"

Phil could feel his annoyance growing. Yes, adding Bex Harmon to the Avengers was a risky move, one that would either be the best or worst thing to happen to the team. Natasha wasn't exaggerating – Harmon strictly worked alone. To say she had trust issues was a massive understatement, though considering the situation she had been in before she was employed by S.H.I.E.L.D, no one could really blame her.

Additionally, Bex's – well, the _abilities_ that were dimissed as rumors by nearly all agents made them nervous nonetheless. Phil always heard a never ending stream of gossip concerning Bex when she returned successful from missions that should have been impossible. Some thought she was simply an amazing shot, or lied in her reports, but most were under the impression that S.H.I.E.L.D. provided her with weapons beyond what other agents were given. Regardless, it didn't exactly endear her to her coworkers.

Her occasional callousness didn't help her reputation, and paired with her being only barely declared mentally stable did not make her fit for a partner. The only people she had opened up to were Clint and himself. She and Romanoff tended to butt heads, so her protesting to Harmon joining the team wasn't a surprise.

"Natasha, I'll see you when you get back. I have to deal with Stark and Harmon."

"Alright then, Coulson."

"And Natasha – try to give it a chance. I would prefer if you two don't kill each other when she gets here."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark was not happy with how his day was turning out. He'd been expecting success, champagne, and getting to see _all_ of Pepper. Instead he was now looking at personality profiles of people Fury had decided to assemble for his band of merry men.

Obviously he'd seen them all before after hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s data base for the Avengers project before they'd upped their security. It was interesting, sure, but not interesting enough to be worth his night being ruined.

As he looked over the video clips and snapshots of the people Fury apparently thought could be Earth's mightiest, something caught his eye.

Oh. Now _this_ was interesting. Among the assassins, super soldier, and rage monster, another person had been added to the prospects. The only thing that showed up at first glance was a code name.

Hazard.

Well that was melodramatic. And Fury called _him_ self obsessed. Tony tried to open the file, wanting in on whatever super secret info it contained when he hit a firewall. It was one he had never come across in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s databases. It only made him more curious.

It took a few minutes more than he'd expected, with Jarvis having to use every decoding algorithm he had come up with, but he eventually cracked it.

Tony was underwhelmed.

There wasn't a wealth of information like there was with every other one of the files he had been sent. No age, history, or even full name. All it contained was the name "R. Harmon". Instead of footage or an official portrait like every other prospect for the Avengers Initiative, the only visual on the person – woman, actually – was a low-quality video clip of a woman with dark hair methodically loading what looked like a bazooka.

This just got better and better. If there was one thing that always drew Tony in, it was a _mystery._

When he tried to get more information on Harmon he came across another variation of the firewall he had encountered initially. Whatever was in that file was clearly something Fury didn't want anyone knowing, which made it absolutely necessary for him to discover. It took a little rewriting of his typical hacking viruses, but he was in after five or so minutes of tinkering.

There wasn't an enormous amount of detail in the depths of this particular file S.H.I.E.L.D. had on Agent Harmon and he was willing to bet that there was a copy he couldn't get access to yet that was much more extensive considering she was apparently an agent. But the few words the file did contain made him pause and reread it again just to make sure he hadn't somehow made a mistake.

 _Rebecca "Bex" Harmon (SB11-18), Clearance Level 6. "Hazard" – Not recommended. Temperamental, untrusting, erratic, and has had minimal success working with a partner. (The previous statements excludes Agent Coulson and Agent Barton). Inability to fully control her mutation. Approved as a reserve if extreme circumstances call for it._

Mutation.

As in she had powers of some kind? Sure, Steve Rogers had been genetically modified with the super soldier serum, but Tony wouldn't necessarily call him a "mutant". This had to be something different. Considering he had never before come across the word in all of the S.H.I.E.L.D. files he'd read, it was obviously something kept incredibly quiet.

The chance to prod at a gamma radiated rage monster _and_ a secret mutant chick?

Guest starring on the Avengers suddenly didn't seem like a bad idea 

* * *

Bex had been on her feet for hours. It usually wouldn't be an issue, but the uncomfortable heels were giving her blisters.

This mission – if one could even call it that – was going to be the death of her. Stakeouts? She was their best goddamn field agent, the same success rate as Strike Team Delta, and they had her on a _stakeout._

A stakeout for a drug ring _in motherfucking Disney World._

This was bullshit. Yes, she'd gotten a bit carried away on that last mission, but it wasn't like she could be blamed. Going after some of the assholes who had been part of the experiments performed on her in the SCYLLA Division before she'd escaped was practically therapy. Everyone needed a little stress relief now and then. She'd even thrown in some of the words her S.H.I.E.L.D-appointed therapist spewed at her to try to sway them.

"But Director Fury, I needed _closure_."

"Phil, I feel as though I can _move on_."

But none of it had worked. So she had been shipped off to Orlando, Florida to monitor a few king pins whose kids apparently frequented the park she was in. That was not the worst part of her punishment.

Director Fury had made her Belle.

It was absolutely humiliating. And if anyone found out she could look forward to being the laughing stock at S.H.I.E.L.D. Her cover was being an employee at the park, and of all things they could have assigned her, they made her one of the actresses who dressed up as a Disney princess and hugged children all day.

Bex didn't _do_ people. Especially little kids. They were always _sticky_.

There was a reason she was a field agent instead of part of the espionage and infiltration sector of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Of course she was wearing a crapload of makeup and prosthetics and was carrying an electrical pulse system that would scramble any photos taken near her, but she was still incredibly antsy being in a crowd. Especially a crowd that thought they could just _touch_ her.

For the woman who had dislocated an agent's shoulder last month for unexpectedly grabbing her arm, this was absolute torture.

She could handle herself around civilians without endangering them, and if her fight-or-flight instincts started kicking in she would separate herself from the situation, but no matter how well she kept a lid on her problems, they were still present. There would always be that ache inside of her to act, to engage in combat and eliminate potential threats, and most problematic – the urge to use her abilities – despite the absurd amount of suppressants she was currently prescribed.

The chemicals that had been pumped into her during the experiments performed on her by SCYLLA had messed with her mind and the constant wiping of her memory had fried her synapses, irrevocably altering the way her mind perceived danger and threats. One of the S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists who had studied her brain explained it as her brain "pumping the same amount of adrenaline and glutamate into you that it would if you were about to die." Hence her paranoia and constant feeling _that she was about to die._

Yes, she was playing her part well -smiling and picking up toddlers and acting like all the other airheads around her - but she was dying to put some of these parents in headlocks, maybe break a few femurs. Factor in that this assignment was beginning to look like it would end with only a few incarcerations, and she was in a really, really bad mood.

When her comm. was suddenly activated she almost jumped. Nobody from S.H.I.E.L.D had contacted her in the two weeks that she had been here, other than some grunts to check up on any new information she had recovered. If her comm. was being used, it was one of the higher ups.

Quickly leaving her station and finding a spot she could be alone, Bex almost flinched when Coulson's voice came through at too high a volume, even if it was a simple, "Agent Harmon."

"Phillip."

She heard his exasperated sigh, but there was no way in hell she was going to go easy on him. He could have adjusted her so-called punishment if he'd tried, but instead he had been on board with the decision to make her do work a _trainee_ should have been assigned to.

What stung even more was that her punishment had been so out of character for Fury – he would usually have made her do paperwork or something to keep her under his thumb, not send her away to _fucking Florida._

"We're calling you in."

Her first reaction was obviously immense relief, but there was still a lot of anger, so in the most innocent voice she could manage she answered, "But Coulson, I'm doing such important work here. I feel like I may have found my true calling."

She expected him to be annoyed, maybe snap at her and give her an excuse to chew him out, but his voice was deathly serious when he answered.

"We've got a Level Seven."

A Level Seven meant her stakeout was over – immediately. Years of training kicked in and Bex switched into work mode, striding toward the car she'd been using and preparing to get out of her cover and back to the base as soon as possible to fly out to wherever they needed her.

"What's the situation we're looking at?"

"A man named Loki has stolen the foreign object Barton was assigned to watch over. We believe he intends to use its power to declare war on our planet. We're sending a plane, you'll be coming straight to the helicarrier."

"Got it. So this guy's a megalomaniac?"

"No. Asgardian."

Immediately she swore under her breath. Being a mutant didn't make things easy when it came to people's opinions of her – most agents were able to sense something _off_ about her - and usually she loved the space people gave her. But when the aliens showed up and everything went to hell, the _very_ few agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. who knew about her non-human status equated weird with dangerous. By extension she'd been monitored closely by everyone who was aware of her abnormalities but Clint and Phil, who actually knew her beyond 'the twitchy mutant who glares all the time'.

This wasn't going to win her any points with her coworkers and boss. Well then. If she was being called in to take this guy out she might be forgiven by Fury after going ballistic on those SCYLLA scientists she'd been told to only subdue and instead made a mess of.

Anything to get her out of these fucking heels.

"Alright then. Anything else I should know before you brief me?"

"We don't know the extent of it but… Barton has been compromised."

Bex took a deep breath in, counted to ten, and then let it out – just like her therapist told her to do when her temper was flaring.

Regardless, a moment later every car in the parking lot within ten feet of where she stood was blasted outward.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve was growing more and more uncomfortable as he felt Agent Coulson's eyes on him. He knew it wasn't the man's fault – and he had been nothing but kind to him thus far – but he already felt out of place enough and being treated like a spectacle was not helping. When he had been handed the files of the people he would be working with Steve was relieved to have something to focus his attention on as the jet he was on approached the "helicarrier" he'd been told they would be meeting on.

However after skimming through the files he couldn't help but look to the agent and ask, "So this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?"

Agent Coulson nodded back and said, "A lot of people were. You were the world's first superhero."

Steve couldn't help but wince slightly at that. He hadn't wanted to be a hero, all he had wanted when he entered the army was to help his country. And now it didn't even feel like it was _his_ anymore. It was so different in every way from the place he had grown up and been proud to defend. But before his thoughts could spiral down that road once again, he saw Agent Coulson moving out of the corner of his eye and turned to watch him.

The emotion on the agent's face was surprising. He looked a little bit guilty, or maybe hesitant. He had pulled out what seemed to be another file and handed it to him slowly. Steve read the name "Agent Harmon" and the word "RESERVE" printed in red below it before looking back to Agent Coulson when the man began speaking.

"There were quite a few other groups that wanted their own super soldiers. One in particular was the SCYLLA Division. They were based in Germany, we believe they were originally a subsection of HYDRA before they branched off and became their own organization. They took to abducting young people from all over the world who showed promise in areas they found useful and would give them doses of their version of Erskine's formula. Nearly all of their test subjects died."

Steve had noted his use of the past tense but didn't want to make any assumptions so he raised his eyebrows and said, "They've since disbanded?"

Coulson nodded toward the newest file and sounded almost proud when he answered, "They were actually destroyed five years ago. Nearly single-handedly by Agent Harmon."

When the man didn't say anything else Steve looked down and opened the file. The preliminary page on top was a summary like the other files had featured. He assumed it would be followed by reports of her previous missions or more details like the others had as well but for now focused on it.

 _Name: Rebecca "Bex" Harmon_

 _Birth Name: Rebecca Jane [Surname Classified]_

 _Birth Date: Classified_

 _POB: United States [Specifics Classified]  
_

 _Known Aliases: Daphne Hartford, Rebekah Chekhov, Malia O'Neill_

 _Citizenship: United States citizen_

 _Known Affiliations: SCYLLA Division, S.H.I.E.L.D._

 _Current Occupations: Field Agent_

 _Clearance Level: 6_

 _Abilities: Unparalleled skills as a sniper, slightly enhanced durability and regenerative rate, performs adequately in close-quarter combat when necessary, speaks three languages fluently, possesses the ability to manipulate electromagnetic fields: can consistently alter the paths of bullets with high accuracy but only sporadically move larger metallic objects with precision_

 _Notes: Was the eighteenth subject given the SCYLLA Division's eleventh batch of their serum and the only known survivor – suspected but unconfirmed to have been a mutant previous to exposure to the serum, enhanced adrenaline and glutamate levels cause extreme anxiety and require daily intravenous suppressants, strictly works alone_

 _Species: Enhanced mutant_

 _Codename: Hazard_

Steve had to take a moment to absorb was he'd just read. Mutants? Like science fiction? He hadn't heard of there being mutants in the world until now. And when he looked at the official S.H.I.E.L.D. identification of the woman she didn't _look_ like a mutated human. She was dark haired with light eyes and seemed like she'd be a pretty dame if she wasn't glaring at the camera like she wanted to dismantle it.

"Are mutants a thing now?"

Coulson looked like he was fighting a laugh, but his voice was even when he answered, "We suspect there might be communities of them, and there have been events that point to us being correct, but Agent Harmon is the only one on our payroll."

"And she used to be a part of this SCYLLA Division? Are you sure she can be trusted?"

At this Coulson looked a little pinched, as if Steve had asked a sensitive question, and answered with the smallest bit of bite in his tone.

"Yes. Bex – Agent Harmon - was not a part of SCYLLA willingly, she was one of their abducted victims. She has one of the top mission success rates at S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm actually her SO. And Loki has harmed the person closest to her. She has more motivation to take him down than nearly anyone else."

Steve immediately backtracked and apologized, "Sorry, sir. I meant no offense. And it's good to hear we'll have someone like that helping out with this. She volunteered to work with a team? It says that she doesn't usually work with others."

"She doesn't. But she has been informed that if she wants to be involved in eliminating Loki then she will have to cooperate."

"Will her cooperation be a problem?"

Coulson seemed dismissive of the topic and shook his head, "No, I've given her the orders. But to move on to the others, Dr. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

Steve knew when someone no longer wanted to talk about something – evasion and redirection had become an every day thing with him – so he decided to give this woman the benefit of the doubt.

"Didn't really go his way, did it?"

And just like that the topic of Agent Harmon was closed.


	4. Chapter 4

Bex was surprised to find that she was the first to arrive on the helicarrier. To be honest she preferred being there early as opposed to late so she could prepare herself to meet and greet Fury's little flock of weirdos she'd been added to.

 _The Avengers_. She'd thought it was a joke when she'd first heard of the people they were recruiting for it – and apparently she hadn't even passed the inspection. But hey, when the world was in peril it seemed the council and S.H.I.E.L.D. were okay with lowering themselves to using temperamental mutants to get the job done. Besides, deep down Bex knew she would do whatever it took to get Clint back alive and hopefully unharmed.

She had been able to remove her wig and makeup but was still uncomfortable with the regulation civilian clothing she'd swapped the sparkling monstrosity of a costume for. Not wanting to be in the S.H.I.E.L.D. clothes she'd changed into any longer than necessary, Bex went below deck and quickly sought out the control room. She'd been on the helicarrier many times before, but she still made sure to map out all of the identical looking hallways. It only took a moment of relearning the path for her to find Agent Hill standing at the main panel of the controls. When she spotted Maria Bex practically ran over and spat out her words.

"I'm here – can I change?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she nodded back to her stoically.

"Suit up, then head back to the main deck to wait for the jets carrying Agent Romanoff and Banner as well as Agent Coulson and Rogers. Their ETA's are thirty minutes approximately."

Bex quickly left, heading towards the floor where her locker was located. Without further delay she yanked off the S.H.I.E.L.D. t shirt and sweat pants she had put on immediately after getting out of that horrific, yellow dress and pulled on her uniform.

Her uniform was unlike that of other female agents', but she preferred hers anyway. It was composed of a black long sleeve shirt similar to under armor but with reinforced pads on the elbows, forearms, and shoulders that made sniping more comfortable when lying down for hours at a time and a pair of thick, dark green cargo pants she usually tucked into combat boots. She decided she might as well take her mask out and simply hung it from her belt loop, opting not to put it on yet.

Feeling a bit better being back in her work clothes, Bex then turned to her weapons locker and removed the four coded locks that included fingerprint and iris identification before yanking it open. With efficiency learned from long-term usage, she slung a holster at her waist as well as one at her hips and put a Glock in each. She painstakingly counted out her ammo and made sure to strap in extra clips to her various pockets.

Finally, she looked back at the largest thing she had stored on the helicarrier with an enormous, excited grin. Surrounded carefully with velvet and looking like the most beautiful thing in the world if she did say so herself, was her third favorite sniper.

"Oh sweet baby, I missed you."

Bex took a few minutes to check it over completely before assembling it, wiping it down, and then fully loading it. The gun had been custom made for her – it was slightly smaller than the standard issued sniper, but just as powerful. With a sigh of contentment, she slung it over her shoulder and let it lay across her back while she filled a few more of her pockets with ammunition for it. When she was all done getting ready and had closed her locker back up she couldn't help but lean forward and close her eyes, letting her forehead press against the cool metal and taking deep breaths to wrap her mind around the situation.

Fuck, she wished she wasn't here. She wished Clint hadn't gone and gotten himself involved so she could just refuse to join Fury's boy band. But she couldn't, because he had.

And _oh my god_ , she just realized this meant now her creepy neighbor would have to look after Sarge for a few more days, or however long this mission took. The lady always used baby talk around her, which was incredibly bizarre when it was directed at a 110 lb. German Shepherd. Bex felt a pang of sadness at the thought of her dog, who she hadn't seen in weeks. Sarge had originally been approved by Coulson as a sort of therapy dog when Bex had just joined S.H.I.E.L.D. – somehow she had been able to sense when Bex was about to have an uncontrolled burst of power. Now her dog was one of exactly six things she cared about in this world – one of which was her favorite sniper.

Knowing she had put it off as long as she could, she took a deep breath and gathered her composure before leaving the locker room and heading back onto the top deck.

Walking onto the deck felt like facing a firing squad.

Okay, that was an exaggeration – Bex was almost positive she could deflect the bullets anyway if she ever faced one – but she was dreading the whole "teamwork" thing. But she figured that just because Fury and Coulson were making her _play_ nice didn't mean she had to _be_ nice. There was no way she'd be kissing Rogers' ass or just sit around being a little underling to be ordered around by the oh-so-illustrious Captain America, even if he was Phil's hero.

She only had to wait a few minutes for the first plane to arrive, time she spent cataloguing every agent she knew on the deck as well as what they were armed with and her chances of subduing them if they attacked her suddenly.

Natasha was the first person to get off of the small aircraft, striding confidently onto the deck in a leather jacket Bex could admit she wanted to steal. Only moments later Coulson's jet landed as well.

Following Natasha was Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner.

 _Yay._


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce Banner looked like a confused, fluffy-haired civilian. Not exactly terrifying. But Bex easily recognized his face based on his file and she had seen the footage of his rampages as the Hulk.

 _Five foot ten. Estimated 170 pounds. Threat level two, threat level ten when transformed. 64% probability that if engaged while transformed there could be serious injury. 19% chance of fatal injury._

To be fair, she was the last person who could judge someone for destruction of property. She _did_ live up to the codename 'Hazard' after all.

Bex made a mental note to check all of the exits when she was in the same room as him and to arm herself with a few tranquilizers. They wouldn't work of course, but never let it be said that lying to oneself didn't work. She'd have to monitor his breathing rate every few minutes.

Fuck. _This_ was why she didn't work well with others. She couldn't ever really rely on someone else if she wasn't sure they could be trusted. And the number of people she trusted in the world could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Her list was probably only Strike Team Delta. And Natasha was iffy.

Bex focused on Natasha as she came over. The agent approached her slowly and made sure she is Bex's line of sight, probably having guessed that she would be much more on edge than her usual, paranoid self.

Smart lady, that one.

When Natasha reached Bex she greeted her with a simple "Harmon." Bex did her best to look serious and professional but couldn't resist responding in an equally neutral tone, "Nat."

The red head didn't take the bait and instead simply narrowed her eyes a bit, to Bex's disappointment.

Rogers saw her and immediately began walking over, followed by a reluctant looking Banner. Oh god. He was probably going to engage in pleasantries. Fuck, she was bad at small being polite and being friendly… okay, she could admit she was bad at anything requiring human interaction.

The psychologists at S.H.I.E.L.D. who had dealt with her when she was first recruited had informed Fury that there was a possibility that she was a sociopath. But Clint telling a moronic joke to her in the cafeteria and soda coming out of her nose because she was laughing so hard disproved that pretty quickly.

Rogers reached her first and held out his hand, clearly expecting a handshake.

 _Six foot two. Approximately 200 pounds. Increased strength. Threat level 6. An estimated 7% chance that he would initiate violence if the handshake proceeded._

She _really_ fucking hated this situation. Natasha clearly knew that, and smirked at Bex over Rogers' shoulder. With a small cringe, Bex extended her own hand and returned the gesture.

"You must be Rebecca. Steve Rogers."

Bex frowned at that and decided at that moment that she wouldn't be able to maintain the whole 'friendly and approachable' thing for an extended period of time. Might as well be herself. Coulson would be _so pissed_ if he saw her being a bitch towards the guy, but…

"It's Harmon."

She retracted her hand as quickly as she could and tried to give him a tight smile that probably resembled a grimace. She peered at Banner and just gave a nod as a greeting, not really comfortable with interacting with him too often. Bex was _very_ aware of the fact that she pissed people off. She wasn't eager to test his patience.

They all walked into the main control room as quickly as possible with Bex at the back to keep an eye on them. The other three chit chatting about the helicarrier, and when Banner made a quip about the wisdom of him being on the carrier she came close to snorting.

He certainly wasn't the only one who could cause some major damage to the enormous _metal_ machine.

Bex continued to remain silent when Fury began his little speech, after receiving ten dollars from Rogers for some reason. When he reassured Banner that he was only here for his work with gamma radiation, she clenched her jaw.

This guy was _definitely_ not here for that reason alone. Yes, his knowledge on the subject was extensive, but any of the geniuses in the science department could read his notes and come up with something themselves. Fury was putting everyone in danger and – okay, hypocritical again. But hey, at least she could parachute off the helicarrier if she knew she was losing control.

The Hulk _probably_ wouldn't volunteer to do so.

Natasha had walked over to one of the computers and Bex saw that it was all information on Clint.

Bex was hit with a pang of intense sadness and rage. Clint was the most important person in the world to her. He had saved her in every way, and now she felt powerless in trying to do the same.

As Banner talked to Fury, Bex wandered over to Natasha, who had stood and moved off to the side to be alone.

With much more seriousness than usual, Bex spoke quietly to the spy.

"I won't be a bitch to you. This is more important than anything else. I know you want him back as badly as I do."

Natasha didn't meet her gaze but did nod curtly. It was probably the best answer that she could have gotten, and Bex wandered off to be alone after Natasha was called over to escort Banner to the lab they'd set up.

To her immense horror, Rogers walked up to her and engaged in _small talk_.

"How long have you been at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Bex stared straight ahead, feigning interest in the view to avoid looking at him and tried to speak in a detached tone so he'd get the fucking message that she wasn't interested in conversation.

No such luck.

"Five years."

"What do you think of-"

She'd lasted approximately 16 seconds. That was polite enough, right? Bex turned to him and finally made eye contact.

"Yeah, no. I don't do small talk in high stress situations."

Rogers looked a little taken aback but his face quickly morphed into annoyance.

"We'll be working together. We have to cooperate to make it work."

Bex held up two fingers, and lowered them individually as she said, "One: yes. Two: no."

Rogers let out an annoyed sound and once more tried talking to her, saying in a slightly sharper voice, "Your file said that you work alone, but you'll be safer and we'll be more effective as a team –"

Bex cut him off, and used an even tone when she spoke.

"Snipers are thirty percent more likely than any other agent to get left behind when a mission goes south. An agent's chances of rescue increase by seventeen percent if other agents describe them as 'friendly' and 'likeable'. Female agents are twelve percent more likely to get kicked out for insubordination or killed in action.

I Don't. Do. Teams."

With that having been said, Bex turned away and walked towards a few new recruits she could see. Terrifying the fresh meat was always good stress relief.


	6. Chapter 6

Bex was antsy. Well, _antsy_ was an immense understatement. Correction: Bex was on the verge of a massive freak out. Walking around the helicarrier with nothing specific to do was torture. All she was doing was worrying about Clint and running through scenarios of everything that could go wrong because of the alien piece of shit.

It seemed like Phil knew her all too well, and he strode over to her after she visibly began tensing every time somewhat looked at her.

"Good to see you, Bex. I wish it was under different circumstances."

Bex let out a low sigh and nodded along with his statement. Of course they were barely whispering – it wasn't exactly normal protocol for a field agent to be on a first name basis with their Superior Officer. But realistically, very little about Bex followed protocol.

"Can I please get some details about Clint? Nobody has even told me how he's compromised."

When Phil flinched, she knew that something was very, very wrong. Wordlessly Phil reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle he always carried of her immediate-acting oral suppressants. When he extended his hand and gave the bottle to her, her breathing sped up.

"Phil? Why do I need these? _Phil_ , I only use these during emergencies on missions."

Phil just looked at her with a sad, guilty expression and mimed that she should open them. Immediately Bex poured two in her shaking hand, already feeling out of control without having been told the news yet.

"Loki has a scepter that can brainwash people."

Everything stopped. A roaring sound rushed through her ears and she couldn't see anything in front of her as she was swept up in memories.

 _Blood, blood, blood. The snapping of bones and the dull thud of a knife piercing flesh._

 _What is your name?_

 _R.J._

 _"The frequency of the memory wipes needs to be increased. The subject has been regaining memories at a faster rate."_

 _What is your name?_

 _I don't know._

 _"Your bionic upgrade has the same sight capabilities of your biological eye, but will have multiple superior settings. We will harvest it tomorrow morning."_

 _What is your name?_

 _Subject 11-18, sir_

Bex was startled was she suddenly heard Phil hissing out her name lowly but firmly, clearly not wanting to call attention to what was happening. If she showed any obvious signs of losing control she'd be detained in a second and he knew how much it meant to her to participate in this mission.

On autopilot Bex popped the two pills in her hand into her mouth and swallowed them dry. She felt dissociated from the situation, as if she was merely a spectator to what was going on.

But this was real. Her best friend's mind was being violated. Bex loudly cleared her throat and did everything she could to calm down. The oral suppressants kicked in nearly immediately, but she would need her intravenous ones in a few hours, possibly sooner.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of bullets. When they lifted up out of her palm and began spinning in a small circle, she finally began breathing evenly.

Bex looked back at Coulson and saw the grief that was clearly on his face. He was one of the agents who knew almost the entire extent of what the SCYLLA Division had done to her. But there was someone else who had stepped in when she was recruited that changed her life.

"We're getting him back, Phil. He went out of his way to be a friend to me when I was a stranger. If there are long term effects – well, I know all about not being in control of your own mind. I'll do for him everything he did for me."

Coulson reached forward and briefly touched her on the shoulder to show his support. He was one of the only people in the world who could do so without gaining an injury. Bex smiled just a bit to show him her appreciation and dropped the bullets into her palm once more before shoving them into her pocket.

The alarm going off that identified that there had been a hit on the facial recognition was a welcome distraction, and when she caught Fury's eye he tilted his head, indicating that she would be sent out.

 _Fuck yes_.

Natasha and Rogers were also drafted, but as she walked by Fury to reach the quinjet he stopped her.

"Harmon. I don't want you to engage unless it is absolutely necessary. We're keeping your involvement a secret. I'm sure Loki already knows everything he can do to set you off."

Bex wanted to groan in frustration. What good was it being an Avenger if she couldn't avenge things.

"Got it, sir."

Well. Guess she was going back to Germany. Her least favorite place _in the entire motherfucking world._

* * *

Tony looked at the girl across from him on the jet. She hadn't actually entered the fight when they apprehended Loki, and he'd been surprised by her presence when they had boarded it. She didn't exactly give off the 'deadly' vibe. If she wasn't dripping weapons he would have guessed she was a grad student. She had the bored expression and terrible posture down at least.

But seeing as she was with Romanoff and Rogers he was fairly certain he knew who she was. Tony was scrutinizing her obviously and closely, and to his surprise she stared back impassively. Finally he broke the silence.

"So Tinkerbelle, you're the mutant?"

At that he got a vague reaction of one eyebrow raising up when she responded, "One: explain. Two: yes. Homo superiens and all that jazz."

In the corner of his eye he saw Loki open his mouth to speak, but in the blink of an eye before he could say anything he suddenly had a gun pointed at his head. Tony had barely seen the girl move.

"Shut up. I want to hear this."

Tony waved his hand towards her head and said in a bored voice, "You've got glitter in your hair."

To his surprise the girl lowered her gun and began aggressively combing her hands over her scalp while muttering in a pissed off tone, "Fucking Disney princesses."

The chick – Agent Harmon – let out an annoyed sigh and looked back to him.

"Well Stark, I'm sure you've been intimately acquainted with body glitter on a regular basis. How do I get it out?"

Tony smirked back at her when he answered, "Determination and elbow grease."

Harmon didn't seem ruffled yet, so of course he decided to try to push her buttons. Maybe he'd get to see her powers in action.

"How's the inhuman thing working out for you?"

Without missing a beat she replied, "Decently, thanks for asking. How's the midlife crisis and multimillion dollar vanity project?"

Yeah. He _liked_ this one.


	7. Chapter 7

Of course a fucking Norse god babysitter showed up. Because one hostile alien wasn't enough, yet another Asgardian just _had_ to join the party.

Bex watched with honest fascination as Stark and Rogers fought amongst themselves instead of doing anything remotely productive. The moment Loki had mentioned lightning and what followed, Bex had known exactly what was going to happen.

Did these people do their research at all? While her paranoia had made her stay awake for 4 hours reading every Norse myth, it really seemed like it should have been common sense to do even the bare minimum of research on an incredibly dangerous alien magician.

Stark's exit had been pretty epic. The guy was _interesting_. Very little actually caught Bex's eye and impressed her, but Stark could banter with the best of them. She knew it was her Clint-withdrawal that made her project, but she already missed the witty conversations she shared with only three people in the world. Stark was a welcome distraction.

Rogers jumping out of a plane without a parachute, however, was equally fascinating. Though it was more along the lines of how-the-hell-has-this-nonagenarian-lived-for-so-long-with-no-survival-instinct. Natasha was looking back with a resigned, exasperated look on her face as she watched Stars and Stripes leap from the back of the quinjet, but soon she looked at Bex and met her eyes.

"I would guess a kidnapped hostile Asgardian counts as a scenario in which you'd prove 'necessary.' Just don't kill anyone."

Bex was already unstrapping herself from her seat and yanking on a parachute. When she looked back to Natasha she let a gleeful smile cover her face when she said, "Don't worry about me, Nat. I'm perfectly in control of and aware of what I'm about to do with Loki."

Before Natasha could speak, Bex lept from the plane.

* * *

Tony could admit that he was maybe in over his head. Thor was demolishing him in this fight and Loki was… somewhere in the forest. Rogers joining in didn't seem to do anything in their attempt to retrieve Loki and bring him back to the helicarrier for Fury to interrogate.

The lightning straight to the suit had been a pretty fucking sweet perk though. He'd have to see if he could somehow generate a false electrical charge that would function in a similar way. Or if he set up enough lightning rods and directed them to a suit that was –

Tony's train of thought was cut off when he was pulled backwards with a sudden jerk of force. He noted somewhat absently that Thor's hammer had rushed through the space he had been occupying a second before. Specifically, where his arc reactor had been.

A small part of Tony felt a flash of fear. He didn't know what exactly he would do in the middle of the forest if somehow the weapon had compromised the arc reactor.

He was surprised once more when after traveling backwards about twenty feet at a decently speed he clipped the edge of something and spun, falling onto the ground face first.

That something he had hit made itself known a second later when he heard Harmon groan. Tony turned his head to the side as he began to stand up and saw Harmon doing the same, though a bit more slowly and with a wince.

"Fucking gods with their stupid hardware tools – "

Tony interrupted her muttering and lifted up his face plate for a moment to talk to her.

"You don't make a very good landing pad."

Harmon smiled widely at him and inserted a fake chipper tone when she replied, "Oh I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. I'll be sure to work on that next time I _save your Napoleon-complexed ass_ –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No need for the hostility, Tink. Though next time I'd recommend pushing me to the side five feet and out of the way instead of pulling me toward you like an enormous metal yoyo."

Harmon shrugged and put on a blank expression when she said, "Duly noted. Now lets actually do our jobs like the grown ups you imitate."

It only took a minute or two more for Cap and Thor to cause a massive fucking shockwave that put an end to the fight. If Tony was being honest, after they had rounded up Loki and were having him board the helicarrier, he was pretty sure the kick in the balls wasn't the 'accident' Harmon claimed it to be.

* * *

Absolutely nothing sounded worse to Bex than to stand in a room crowded around a single monitor with Romanoff, Banner, Rogers, and the blonde Asgardian.

So of course that was the situation she was currently in.

Watching Fury and Loki closely, Bex tried to ascertain any tells in Loki's body language that could later come in handy against him. However, it seemed like the man was entirely composed. Fury, on the other hand, was clearly enjoying dressing down the god. The ant and boot metaphor was borderline funny.

The next thing the god said wiped the small smirk off of Bex's face.

"It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me."

"Built for something a lot stronger than you."

Bex wasn't the only one to tense up. She had made sure that Banner was on her right side, the side that contained her bionic eye. A quick scan usually distorted her vision and she tried not to do it that often, but it seemed necessary. However, Banner's heart rate and temperature were steady, so she knew he wasn't on the verge of turning into an enormous green monster.

"Oh I've heard."

Loki stared into the camera. Bex was aware of the fact that precautions had to be made when she was on certain aircrafts or submarines and that the room Loki was in was most like entirely devoid of any material whose electro magnetic field she could control.

The fact that it was also strong enough to presumably contain Banner wasn't a surprise to her. But Loki's next words made her froze completely.

"The mindless beast, makes play he's still a man. And the psychotic time bomb of a woman, twisted into something barely _human_. How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost creatures to defend you?"

That was – fucking, _fucking shit_. Clint was brainwashed, she had known that. But instead of a simple puppet, he was clearly high functioning enough to reveal S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets. And Clint was the single person in the world who knew the entire extent of what had happened to her and who she was.

After Loki and Fury finished their little pissing contest, complete with jibes about 'warm lights for all mankind', Bex continued staring at the black screen. Without looking away from the monitor she spoke in a level, quiet voice.

"If anyone has any objections to working with the psychotic time bomb, speak now or forever keep your fucking opinions to yourselves."

Romanoff, Banner, Rogers, and Thor didn't respond, and Bex stepped back with a mocking salute and walked over to the table, plopping herself down with false nonchalance. She'd learned even before SCYLLA had abducted her that slouching and appearing docile made people underestimate her immensely. Natasha was the only one in the room who would know to stay on guard around her.

Tony Stark striding in with Phil and interrupting the passive aggressive conversation going on was a very, _very_ welcome change in pace.


	8. Chapter 8

Stark swept in the room and immediately apparently tried to provoke a Norse god when he said, "No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing."

Um, no. Bex had to bite back more than one bitchy comment when Stark finished that sentence. There were _very hard feelings_. Having to use her powers randomly on a large metal object was not fun.

Bullets and anything bowling-ball size or less were incredibly easy to maneuver. She could do whatever she wanted with them, juggle or spell out swear words in mid air. But unless she had taken an intravenous suppressant hours beforehand, Bex couldn't move large objects with the exact same accuracy. She could _always_ pull metal towards her. It was the instinctual reaction. But when she suddenly had to move a larger object she had to be a little more careful.

And taking into account the fact that using her powers on large objects when caught off guard was pretty draining, plus her tendency to be even more cranky than usual when tired, and she was a very unhappy camper.

Bex didn't understand arc reactor technology. She knew it was blue, it glowed, and Tony Stark was a fucking genius for creating it in a bite size portion. Beyond that, she could only recite what she'd read in scientific articles he'd published. But Bex was fairly certain a godly Asgardian weapon slamming into it was a bad thing.

Yet another reason she hated teams: there was a degree of responsibility for the safety of others that she had to take on. It was so much worse when the team members didn't seem to have any self preservation instincts at all.

So having to maneuver Stark out of the way seemed like a necessity Phil would insist on her doing. But in that fraction of a second when Bex had to choose what to do, she realized that there was a very small probability that she could accidentally push him towards Thor.

 _Six foot three. Approximately 240 pounds assuming bone density aligns with that of a human. Incredibly increased strength and near invulnerability. Threat level 10._

The estimated 3.8% chance that she would move him closer to the god usually wouldn't factor in, but on this mission if anything went wrong it would be on her head. Or worse, it could affect Clint.

So she'd gritted her teeth, put on her big girl pants, and yanked a huge robotic suit towards herself.

"Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails. That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did."

Bex whipped her head around to the general direction that Stark had been facing and say that it was Agent Brian Kelly – _20 years old, threat level two_. Also known as the man whose shoulder she had dislocated when he grabbed her without warning. She figured it would be overkill to glare and terrorize him yet again.

So obviously that was what Bex proceeded to do.

Stark's jab at Fury's lack of eye, however, brought her back to the present as she had to stifle her laughter. She noticed that Natasha looked a little pinched along with Hill, but those two had always been closer to the Director than she had.

Phil looked equally amused. _This_ was why he was a close second to Clint on her list of things she cared about in the world.

1\. Clint

2\. Phil

3\. Sarge

4\. Natasha – mostly for the way she looked at Clint, and the way he looked back

5\. Betty – her favorite sniper

6\. Kayla – the younger half sister she hadn't seen since she was seventeen and only vaguely remembered

Stark hadn't really shut up since he entered, but as entertaining as it was to see him piss almost everyone off, she still flinched when he said, "The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily."

It just – it fucking _hurt_ to be reminded that Clint had been dragged into this as an unwilling participant to Loki's plan. S.H.I.E.L.D. had saved him from a life as a mercenary that had slowly been killing him. He was loyal to the organization, much more so than she. Bex was first and foremost loyal to Clint, Coulson, and Natasha to a degree. _Clint_ was the one who had made the call to save her life. And _he_ was the one who had rehabilitated her, not S.H.I.E.L.D. But now he was somewhere surrounded by enemies and picking off agents on his own side that he had probably known at some point or another.

Stark and Banner started prattling on about the cube's properties and how it could be used to create a portal while Bex was doing her best to follow along and memorize some of the terms so she could look them up later. She didn't really know how any of the specifics they were talking about worked. When Stark saw her out of the corner of his vision nodding along to what he was saying, he suddenly stopped talking and called out to her.

"Tink, you following?"

Bex decided the nickname wasn't worth getting upset over. If anything it would make others underestimate her. However, she responded in a tone that left no room for further questions or comments.

"Not really. I'm just the muscle."

Stark snorted and continued his theories without a moment's pause. Rogers still looked incredibly, incredibly confused. Though to his credit, Captain Spangles _had_ been shoved into the future. And to him the war had been only weeks ago. Everyone he knew was dead.

The last one, she could relate to. Of course, she'd been the one to put a bullet into nearly everyone she had ever loved. It was by pure fucking amazing luck that her younger sister had been with relatives when SCYLLA had kidnapped everyone for their experiment.

To SCYLLA's immense pleasure, their hypothesis had been correct. Once her memory had begun to return and she recognized the line of people she'd killed, she finally cracked. Brainwashing and conditioning had been _much_ easier to perform on someone who'd gone hysterical and half insane.

Tony Stark continued to spew out inaccuracies that seriously impeded their potential snarky banter when he went on to say, "And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

Banner looked taken off guard by the bold statement, which was understandable. Natasha had been the one to bring him in, and he'd apparently been in the middle of nowhere. A straight up poster boy of an inferiority complex and self loathing.

Bex wasn't proud of it, but she really wished he'd stayed out of the way. He was a liability, and isolating himself was really the safest option. It was hard to get pissed off when there was no one around to bother you.

Stark was a very bothersome human being from what she'd observed thus far.

Phil interrupted her inner musing when he nonchalantly walked over to her and stood just beside her. Before she could ask what was up or how he'd been, she felt him slip something into her right pocket. A quick assessment of its shape and size revealed that he had somehow found the iPod that had been in her apartment the last time she'd checked.

Dear god, this man was fucking fantastic.

"Phil Coulson, you are the greatest. You know what – I'm gonna do something to pay you back. I'll take the water balloons filled with fake blood out of the lockers of the rookies at headquarters that Clint and I planted three weeks ago. Consider it done."

Bex didn't have to look at him to know that he'd rolled his eyes and was probably sporting his I'm-trying-to-appear-disappointed-but-secretly-find-your-pranks-with-Barton-amusing.

Bex herself was a little bit entertained by the Asgardian and Rogers when they began interjecting after Stark's pop culture references.

"Monkeys? I do not understand."

Rogers sat up a bit and looked enthusiastic when he said, "I do! I understood that reference."

Give the man a medal. Or a trophy with a tiny Captain America action figure glued to the top.

Stark and Banner soon left to go to the lab where the gamma radiation was being tracked, and once more Bex found herself without a purpose. Before she could wander off or climb up into the air vents to relax a bit alone, Fury turned to look at her.

"Harmon. I want you in there with them. Keep a close eye and report back periodically to let myself or Agent Coulson know what they are up to. Any sign of a dangerous situation emerging and you have permission to engage. Otherwise remain on the periphery."

Bex straightened up, not exactly thrilled with playing babysitter but acknowledging that she might be one of the best for the job. As a sniper, sitting still and observing targets who were moving around was second nature to her.

With a mock salute at Fury and a more earnest nod and small smile to Phil she made sure nobody could see, she strode off for her playdate with Iron Man and the Hulk.


	9. Chapter 9

Bruce Banner wished he could say that he didn't leap a foot in the air in surprise when a figure suddenly dropped down from the ceiling after he and Tony had been in the lab working near-silently for the last three and a half hours.

But he couldn't, because he had not only jumped in surprise, he had let out an embarrassing high pitched noise.

Tony whipped his head around and was wide eyed as he looked at Agent Harmon and said, "Christ, Tinkerbelle. How long have you been here? Were you in the _ventilation ducts_?"

Harmon nodded and strode over to the table and chairs on the other side of the room, rearranging them with small flicks of her wrist, the first real display of her power he had seen thus far. She paused to look up and did the same with a few ceiling tiles.

Tony was the one to finally ask, "Uh, why exactly have you decided to pursue your dream of being an interior decorator? And why are you here, I thought you were the muscle."

Harmon looked back at the both of them and seemed far too nonchalant when she replied, "I need to clear a path to all possible exits. On that note, I'd prefer if you and Doc move seven feet to the right, but beggars can't be choosers. And I _am_ the muscle, I'm monitoring you right now, not participating in the science aspect."

At least she was honest. Bruce couldn't be offended by her precautions, to be blunt he often wished others would do the same so he didn't have to be so apprehensive about possible outcomes if he became too angry.

Tony continued to bait her, but before Bruce could elbow him or do something to make him stay quiet, he said, "You know, that reveals crippling paranoia."

Harmon stared at Tony for a moment before a slow, threatening smile covered her face.

"Well, it's kept me alive thus far."

Without further prompting, she unstrapped a massive sniper rifle from her back and laid it next to her on the table she had hopped on to sit. She soon did the same with two smaller guns. Seemingly out of nowhere she produced a small rag and began meticulously cleaning all of her weapons.

After twenty minutes or so Bruce finally felt himself get bothered, but he tried to remain polite when he said, "Do you do this around everyone, or are we getting special treatment because I'm here?"

To his immense surprise, a look of genuine mirth covered her face and she let out a small snicker when she responded, "The weapon reveal and intimidating posturing? Everyone. Warms my heart to see the baby agents flinch."

Harmon paused and finally put her weapons to the side. However, instead of making him feel less on edge, she only stopped to stare at him and Tony, barely moving apart from her eyes, which continued to track their every move.

Tony once more tried to continue the conversation when he said in a tone that clearly implied a question, "You were denied."

"I'm aware. So were you."

Tony wasn't done, and continued when he said, "So why are you here? Your file said you don't play well with others. How'd Fury convince you to join up?"

Harmon shrugged, and broke her unsettling stare to pick at her nails, seemingly absorbed with a hangnail she found a moment later. When it seemed as though she wouldn't answer, however, she spoke.

"I would be unhappy to varying degrees if exactly six things in this world were harmed. The alien fuckface messed with number one. I'm a big proponent of the 'eye for an eye' philosophy. So I'm going to gouge his out."

Bruce felt a wave of nausea at her description, and her unbothered expression that went along with her violent reveal. He decided to stay out of the conversation entirely and remain a bystander. Harmon's focus was not something he wanted directed at him.

"Let me guess – Barton? Romanoff's partner?"

She nodded tersely in response, and her answer gave Tony yet _another_ opening to piss off the very, very dangerous woman in the room who Bruce was still half convinced would be excited to kill off the rest of the team.

"You're not very talkative, are you?"

Harmon rolled her eyes and spoke in a slow and condescending voice when she said, "I never shut up around people I actually like. But I don't like talking about myself - a concept that must be entirely foreign to you. And I don't chit chat during high risk assignments, because I'm not a fucking _moron_."

At this statement and Tony Stark's shocked and offended expression it produced, Bruce finally relaxed a bit and let out an amused laugh.

The two people in front of him were so exceedingly similar.

* * *

Idleness seemed to be a recurring theme when one was working with a team. Bex was still practically vibrating with anxiety at being in such a small space with Doctor Banner, but the easy exits she'd created and the massive amount of metal in the room put her at ease just a fraction. Enough to listen to music in an attempt to even out her breathing, at least.

Bex only kept one earbud in the ear that wasn't facing the two men she was keeping track of with the volume practically nonexistent. It took Stark approximately three and a half minutes to notice what she was doing. Having established that he didn't understand the concept of _boundaries_ , he wandered over closer to her until he stood right in front of her.

 _Less than 5% chance of attack. Without his immediate choice of weaponry. Allow the situation to proceed and gain information._

"What are you listening to?"

Bex didn't really see the gain in bullshitting him, and she figured she had used up her limit of barbed insults per fifteen minutes, so she answered honestly when she said, "The Smiths."

"How very angsty teenager of you."

 _Never mind._ It was apparent that she didn't have to cap her bitchy remarks when it came to Tony Stark. Banner was probably a little uncomfortable as he fidgeted around in the sides of her vision, evidently fiddling with some machine or another. But as much as Bex wouldn't admit it, trading insults and banter with Stark was the most fun she'd had in weeks so she shot him a feral grin.

"Not quite. Angsty twenty-six year old mutant with a twitchy trigger finger who doesn't like her taste in music being mocked."

Stark drastically threw his hand over his heart while he practically lamented, "You wound me. And what classification of mutant are you?"

Bex shrugged and didn't bother answering him – yes, she'd noticed that his question would prompt her to explain the different classes of mutants, she wasn't stupid. His next words however made all of her amusement leave the room.

"Now Tink, I see through your jerkass façade. You're a classic trope – an ice queen with a heart of gold."

Bex clenched her fists to the degree that she could feel her nails on the brink of drawing blood.

"You know all about façades, don't you boy genius? PTSD extraordinaire, a man on a mission to redeem himself."

She saw his expression tighten just a fraction, but it was enough to know that she had hit a very raw nerve. She stored away this information in the back of her mind in case he ever turned on her and needed to be psychologically tortured.

 _Yes_ , Bex was very aware that her rationale and thought process weren't quite indicators of mental stability and 'team spirit'.

Stark didn't verbally respond to her insult and instead backed off to keep the situation from dissolving quickly, clearly sensing that she was on the edge of becoming very angry.

"We're talking about _you_ , Harmon. But if we want to talk about me it can be summed up fairly easily: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

Bex was startled by the sudden change in tone of their conversation and snorted lightly with humor. She opened her mouth to retort, but then as if on a schedule, Tony Stark ruined all sense of peace and suppression of her anxiety when he leaned forward to stare at her face with a look of pleased interest.

"Holy shit, is that a bionic _eye_? What are the capabilities –"

He stopped speaking when he felt the gun pressed to the side of his head in tandem with the knife against his neck. Bex hadn't bothered to grab her weapons manually, merely used her abilities and moved them to make it _very_ clear that he was done talking.

She didn't talk about the 'enhancements' SCYLLA had oh so generously gifted her. Having her fucking eyeball extracted from her skull and replaced with a foreign object was not a topic she fondly reminisced over in her spare time. It caused every moment of the surgeries they'd performed come to the forefront of her mind.

 _The first year: Sterilization. Standard procedure for those they were crafting into assassins. A procedure the Red Room had immense success with in regard to their Black Widow program._

 _The second year: Cybernetic replacements for her knees. Her tendonitis had been acting up and had been too much of a hassle when it impacted her speed._

 _The fourth year: The removal of all of the bones in her left forearm, wrist, and hand. They'd been interested to see if she could re-grow them after her latest infusion of their serum. When it had become apparent that she couldn't, Bex had been given adamantium replacements._

"Stark. You are going to back the fuck up. Or I _will_ kill you. I don't need the gun or the knife. Though either of those would do the job easily, the blood would be a hassle to clean up. But a flick of my wrist and I can push those lovely little shrapnel pieces around in your heart."

To her relief, Stark immediately blanched and backed up quickly. Just as the next song started on her iPod, she heard him hiss out quietly to Doctor Banner, "You don't think she'd really go through with it, do you?"


	10. Chapter 10

Hours passed, and to Bex's relief neither Stark nor Banner tried to speak to her or engage her in any way. In a way it was a shame – Bex had started _liking_ Tony Stark, a rarity. But bringing up past torture was a no-no in her book. She was fairly sure it was frowned upon in everyone's book, actually. It didn't matter that he hadn't meant to draw up a good old round of PTSD-inducing memories, he had done it anyway.

But Bex was no longer in the mood to speak to either of them. Instead she had simply watched them closely, scanning their vitals every few minutes to check their heart rates and breathing patterns. It distracted her from the scientific lingo they were passing back and forth that was utterly incomprehensible to her.

"That extends to you, too."

Bex was snapped out of her wandering thoughts and she turned to look at Stark after realizing he was addressing her.

"Sorry, what?"

Stark made a show of rolling his eyes and looking exasperated, but replied to her question.

"Seeing as your version of la-la-land is plotting my demise," Bex didn't think that was quite fair – she had been daydreaming of ways to take down _all_ of the Avengers if it became necessary, which was a perfectly legitimate concern seeing as Loki had a magic stick of destiny, "I'll repeat myself. I'm extending an invitation to you and Banner to come by Stark Tower sometime. I'd love to study your DNA."

Bex wasn't exactly bothered by his thought process, actually. She didn't care when people tried figuring out what made her tick. As long as there wasn't experimentation involved or anything done without her approval, it was alright by her. A blasé extension of hospitality was probably Stark's version of an olive branch, and Bex decided to try to tone down her moodiness and nerves and mellow out so she'd be level-headed when the real action started.

"Damn. With lines like those I can see how you got so much ass before your age caught up to you."

Banner literally choked when Bex finished speaking, and she immediately scanned him tensely – how the hell was she supposed to know what would make him go green?

However Bex realized a second later that he was trying to suppress laughter. It was an action Stark didn't mimic – he practically _cackled._ Before he said anything, however, Banner turned to Stark and answered the question he'd been asked.

 **"** Thanks, but the last time I was in New York I kind of broke... Harlem."

"Well, I promise a stress free environment. No tension. No surprises."

It was at that point that Tony fucking Stark decided it would be fun to experiment on a potential Threat Level 10 with a miniature electrical prod.

* * *

Steve walked into the room Stark and Banner had been working in just in time to see Stark attack Dr. Banner and Harmon reflexively aim guns at both of their heads with less than a half second of reaction time. Both men had two additional knives aimed at them suspended in mid-air with paths directly to their vitals. Harmon was practically shaking and looked enraged, so Steve tried to announce his entry as best he could.

"Hey! Are you nuts?"

Nobody even glanced in his direction, and Stark just started listing off questions to Banner in response to his lack of reaction.

 **"** You really have got a lid on it, haven't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?"

Steve didn't care if Banner was the calmest person here – Harmon still looked _very_ on edge. Right now she was the most dangerous person in the room. Stark was clearly more interested in Banner at the moment, probably not having even taken into account that Harmon wouldn't react well to him riling up Banner.

Steve walked forward with an even pace and made sure that he was within her line of sight when he began speaking to Stark – not wanting to startle her in any way as he reamed out Tony.

"Is everything a joke to you?"

"Funny things are."

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny. No offense, doctor."

When Banner began defending his actions and apparently trying to reassure all of them of his control, Steve watched as the floating blades moved back towards Harmon, where they seemingly sheathed themselves in a belt she wore.

Her powers were – _eerie_ was the closest word Steve could come up with. They were unnatural. After reading her file he knew that they weren't sought after like the bizarre inhuman qualities Schmidt had gained, but it was vaguely reminiscent of them, as unfair as the connection was. And if he was being brutally honest with himself, seeing her powers reminded Steve that his own condition was manufactured – his biggest insecurity.

Steve had lived in his small body for more than twenty six years. This body had only been his for less than two. In most of his dreams he was still small. As much as he and Harmon had already butt heads, they were similar in a way. Everything about her screamed 'self-loathing' so as much as Steve wanted to dismiss her as nothing more than a bitter liability to the team, he had to admit that there was every possibility that she felt the same as he did.

However, everything around him seemed to grow one hundred times more tense the moment Stark said **, "** Why did Fury call us and why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

* * *

Bex felt a pit of dread slowly growing in her stomach when Stark began calling Fury into question. 'Bugging' her was kind of an understatement for how she was beginning to feel. Bex had only arrived on the helicarrier recently – she hadn't been present when the call was made to send Clint to work on the Tessaract and obviously had no say in who was being added to the Avengers Initiative. But everything seemed… off.

 _No._ No, no, no. This wasn't _fair_. Tony Stark and Bruce Banner weren't allowed to suddenly make her question everything she knew. Because honestly – SHIELD was everything she knew now, as much as she hated to admit it. The only people in the world she cared about were a part of it. And after SCYLLA… it was nice to have finally found somewhere that she could sometimes _breathe_.

Bex _hated_ herself. Everything that had been whispered about her – that she couldn't be trusted after being one of SCYLLA's drones, that she had no sense of loyalty, she wasn't reliable – it was all being proved true as Stark and Banner pointed out inconsistencies. Especially when Banner pointed out that Stark hadn't been drafted for the Tessaract project.

If SHIELD had really wanted to assess its capabilities as far as an energy source – well, Tony Stark would have been even Bex's obvious first choice. Bex was tightening her grip on her guns. She had lowered both of her Glocks but having their weight in her hands was a security blanket of sorts… and _wow_ she was even more fucked up than she often realized.

Stark was a liability. He should _never_ have been even accepted on board of the helicarrier and –

"I should probably look into that once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files."

Bex was – Christ, she didn't fucking know how she felt. Terrified, maybe? She was almost positive that her most extensive files were all written down and not logged in to any SHIELD database, but even the possibility of her deepest secrets being poked and prodded at by Tony Stark and whoever he decided to show them to made her want to fucking murder _everyone in this room_. Bex knew she fell under the category of "dirty secret" that SHIELD tried to hide.

Damn it. She hated feeling weak, but in that moment she wanted to just let go and lose control, warp every bit of metal around her and throw a temper tantrum.

Banner was the one to try to reason with El Capitan, after Stark had made a few admittedly on point insults. If Bex had been in a better mood, she would have high-fived him. The cute little mini-showdown between Stark and Rogers was a good distraction for a beat, until Rogers stormed out.

Stark turned to Bex, clearly trying to assess what it was she would do. In an even but somewhat humorously threatening tone – as if he could really hurt her in a huge _metal_ suit of armor – he finally spoke to her.

"So, Harmon. You going to let your ringleader know about my dastardly plans?"

Bex paused. This would be a choice she couldn't take back. To stand by and let Stark hack into SHIELD would essentially make her a traitor to the organization. But there was a feeling that had been building, starting just weeks ago.

Fury had sent her away. On a petty level she was pissed having to act like a Disney princess. But something had been wrong with it beyond just that. Could he have been keeping her out of the way? Bex didn't want to believe it. But Stark was right in front of her, and holding all of the answers to her questions. Finally, she made her decision and answered Stark quietly.

"I have been in the restroom for the last four minutes and just returned. I am unaware of anything that has happened since Rogers stepped in this room."

A look of surprise covered both Banner and Stark's faces, but as Stark opened his mouth, Bex cut him off.

"If you find any information on me in SHIELD's digital archives – destroy it."

* * *

 _Sorry for the enormously long wait - I'm back to working on this. xx_


	11. Chapter 11

Tony was watching Harmon out of the corner of his eye, even as he spoke to Banner about the arc reactor in his chest – and damn, the guy didn't know how small a pool of people he had _ever_ talked to it about was. Nor did Harmon, of course, and he could tell that she was interested in what he was saying.

Okay, maybe he couldn't actually _tell_ – she had pretty much no giveaways in her body language – but hey, mutual non-consensual metal in their bodies had to make them bros. Tony wasn't _trying_ to get on her bad side, but she seemed to get angry pretty quickly, which was ironic considering who she was in the room with. Harmon didn't seem like she'd be bad company and her sense of humor was surprisingly on point with his own, but at the moment he was pretty sure he was only getting to talk to her work-personality. So yeah, he'd back off a bit for now. After all, she hadn't completely shut down his suggestion of coming by the tower. Maybe he'd get to see Harmon minus the mission-headspace.

She only really entered the conversation when he heard her let out an incredulous snorting sound after he said the "other guy" must have saved Bruce's life for a reason to be seen.

Turning to her, he said, "Clearly someone in the audience disagrees. What say you, Tink?"

Harmon shrugged and addressed him and Banner for the first time since she'd agreed to not alert Fury to the decryption he was currently running.

"I _say_ that equating Banner's accident with your situation is absurd. The circumstances are too different. The only common denominator is the wow-factor and how unusual both of your conditions are."

Before he could respond, Harmon focused directly on Bruce and spoke in a firm, but not unkind voice, "You're incredibly dangerous in a way Stark is not. The lack of control is expected considering any testing of your control when you're in your," she seemed to pause for a second, clearly trying to come up with a term for when Bruce turned green, " _heightened state_ would be dangerous for everyone around you, and would include provoking your own anger intentionally. It's a loop – to try to learn control and minimize the damage you can cause, you have to in turn invite that possibility – a pacifist like you must be drowning in the risk-reward ratio."

Seemingly done with her assessment of Bruce, she turned to look at him. Tony stood firm and didn't allow himself to show any sign of being uncomfortable by her searching stare, but he was. Had he been unaware of her job and not experienced her _dazzling_ personality, he might have been flattered. Tony was around attractive people all the time and was sort of immune to it, but objectively, Harmon could be called 'pretty'. Not beautiful or stunning, but definitely interesting with the contrast between her very dark hair, pale skin, and light blue eyes.

So yes, being stared at so closely would normally be a bit of an ego boost. But at the moment, he was pretty sure she was doing her best to non-physically dissect him. Which was not awesome.

"You're belittling his situation unintentionally by comparing it to yours, and it isn't fair to you either. I've almost certain that you're honestly trying to be helpful, which forces me to alter most of the information I've gathered on your motives regarding spending time with members of this team."

Tony bristled at that and turned back to the data he had been analyzing with Banner. It seemed like the 'information' she was talking about was more along the lines of personally trying to assess the situation, but he wasn't thrilled about the idea of her sitting in a corner and forming opinions based on –

"You don't have to look so pissy. It's nothing personal."

Tony whirled back around and saw that Harmon was looking at him with more humor in her expression than she had since he'd prodded at Bruce. Speaking of which, Banner seemed much _less_ on edge suddenly, as if Harmon pointing out he was mega-dangerous was soothing or something. Not like Tony had been trying to put him at ease this whole time. Okay, maybe not this whole time, but still – Tony had been trying to extend an olive branch or whatever.

"It's cute that _you're_ calling _me_ pissy since you've been little miss trigger-happy since we've met."

Instead of making her annoyed, his comment didn't seem to phase her in the least. _Ugh_ , figuring out this chick was going to be the end of him. Harmon just shrugged and replied in an even tone – though for all he knew she could be internally raging.

"True. We're on a mission and I've made it clear I don't like being on this team. We've got a hostile alien megalomaniac on board a flying piece of machinery that can be downed in a multitude of ways by anyone even slightly familiar with SHIELD technology. And as I've _already told you_ ," at that, some annoyance did sneak into her voice, letting him know that she probably hadn't planned on telling him in the first place and was bothered that he hadn't taken more of a note of it, "my best friend is involved in this shit against his will."

Banner was clearly trying to stay out of the conversation and focused entirely on the equations in front of him that were in the process of uncovering the location of the Tesseract.

"So, you and Barton are close."

Harmon tensed but nodded back with a suspicious expression on her face, as if his statement was the beginning of an interrogation. _Christ_ , someone needed to book her a massage or give her a bottle of champagne.

"What about you and the itsy-bitsy spyssassin?"

For a second she seemed to freeze, and Tony honestly didn't know how she would react. But then an enormous, somewhat sadistic smile covered her face and she started cackling like some witch in a children's story book.

"Holy shit, please promise me I can be there when you actually call her that. Nat will tear your fucking face off! Or, you know, just glare at you meanly in a way that makes you look over your shoulder for the next year."

Tony considered her answer but didn't quite rise to the bait. Interested in the dynamic of the SHIELD agents on the team, he asked again, "So you and Romanoff _aren't_ buddies?"

Harmon seemed a little bit more relaxed when she responded, "It's not like it seems. She's an incredible agent. I don't dislike her, we just don't get along."

Harmon had taken one of her hand guns out of its holster again and was running her fingers across its barrel – clearly it wasn't the intimidation tactic she tried to make it seem like, if anything Tony was pretty sure it was an unconscious habit. She had stopped fairly suddenly while talking, and a few minutes of quiet passed in the lab as Bruce worked and Tony tried to think of more conversation topics that wouldn't cause any kind of tension for any of the three individuals in the room.

Talking about Barton and Romanoff had been a bad move. Tony could see that now that he watched Harmon more closely. She kept glancing at the decryption running with an entirely blank expression on her face – the look of someone trying hard not to give anything away.

It hadn't actually struck him what Harmon's decision not to alert Fury meant. Tony was fairly certain by now that he and Bruce were part of the Avengers Initiative, same as Rogers. But Harmon was an Agent of SHIELD.

She was committing treason to the organization by allowing this to happen. And based on the way she was beginning to look more and more withdrawn, she was running through possible scenarios that would be happening as a result of her decision.

Tony stared at the program himself and saw that in only a short time, he would have access to all of SHIELD's files. For a brief second, he _wanted to discover_ that there was something nefarious going on with the World Security Council and Fury in regard to the Tesseract.

Because Bex Harmon had just bet on Tony's hunch, and he really hoped it hadn't been for nothing.

* * *

 _Clint, Phil, Sarge, Natasha, Betty, Kayla. Clint, Phil, Sarge, Natasha, Betty, Kayla. Clint, Phil, Sarge, Natasha, Betty, Kayla. Clint, Phil, Sarge, Natasha, Betty, Kayla._

Bex was on the edge of a panic. She was trying incredibly hard not to let Stark or Banner see exactly how close she was to losing it. During a brief moment when they had both been looking away from her she had managed to take another one of her oral suppressants. But she needed one of her intravenous suppressants very, very soon.

She was reaching the twenty four hour maximum time between doses, and in her high-stress situation she probably should have gotten injected hours ago. But she hadn't been able to tear herself away long enough to locate one of the few doctors on board who were certified to give her the drug and who she had performed a very in-depth, very illegal background check on.

 _Clint, Phil, Sarge, Natasha, Betty, Kayla._

When she was thrown out of SHIELD, only two of those things would be accessible to her. More like one, actually, since there was no way she'd ever go looking for Kayla. It would be her and her dog. By themselves.

She couldn't go through with this. She had to tell Coulson or Fury. Fuck, even _Hill_.

There wasn't going to be anything wrong. Oh god, Bex couldn't go _through with this_. Tony Stark was hacking an international data base, and she was letting him do it right in front of her. A civilian shouldn't have access to everything he would be seeing. Beyond the internal issues at SHIELD – there was a number of national security files that he could see. It was unethical.

If Stark had been wrong, and she'd supported him in this – he just couldn't be wrong.

Coulson wouldn't trust her again. Natasha might get it, after a while. And Clint…

Bex wanted to destroy everything around her. She wished so badly that the feeling flooding through her was rage. Rage, she could deal with.

But it wasn't. The only feeling Bex had was a childish terror at the thought of Clint's reaction. What he would say when he found out that she had betrayed SHIELD. He had put everything on the line for her, when he had brought her in to SHIELD instead of taking her out.

Everyone had said she was a bad investment. That she would turn her back on them as soon as it was convenient. And they were right.

As another thought formed, Tony Stark cut through.

"I'm in."


	12. Chapter 12

There were voices screaming inside of his head. But Clint genuinely wanted to serve Loki and ensure that the god's plan succeeded. He was going to take down the helicarrier.

But - Clint _knew_ that he didn't actually want to do that. To do any of that.

It was as if he was watching himself perform these actions. Fuck. There was the concrete knowledge that he was being controlled unnaturally, but somehow the knowledge didn't seem important.

People he cared about were on the helicarrier. He was going to kill people he had worked with. It seemed inconsequential – a fact he easily ignored.

There was – something –

The part of him that was trying so desperately to take control and _just fucking stop all of this_ was silenced a moment later.

Natasha was probably going to die. So were Phil and Bex. The woman he loved and the people that had become the closest thing he'd ever had to a family.

Under Loki's control, it didn't matter to him.

* * *

 _Five Years Ago_

It was pouring rain, which really added to the drama of the situation, if you asked Clint. Being an international espionage and infiltration agent meant that sometimes even he couldn't believe how much like a movie his life was. But this might have been the pinnacle of his _Bond_ franchise. Except instead of being a spy heart throb, he was being sent to kill a rogue SCYLLA assassin.

Regardless, chasing someone through streets and over rooftops of an abandoned town on the outskirts of Germany at midnight while it was thunder-storming was exciting enough for him, thank you very much.

He had been getting closer to her these last couple of weeks, and tonight he was right on her trail. It was going to end tonight. The bow and arrows he carried tonight were made entirely without metal, along with everything else on his person, including his body armor beneath his tactical suit.

But Clint had learned that sometimes it was pure luck that made someone come out on top of another.

It was an alley where he finally cornered her. _Of course_ it was an alley.

For the first time since he had begun his mission to take her down almost three weeks ago, the were facing one another, only twenty feet from each other.

Seeing her now only strengthened his conviction that SHIELD was doing the right thing by sending him in. She had been on their watch-list for the last six months, ever since she had begun destroying facilities that SHIELD only realized after-the-fact had been SCYLLA strongholds. But now she had been slaughtering high level German politicians and other movers and shakers. Clint was pretty positive that they would be revealed to be dabbling in SCYLLA's business, but that wasn't his problem.

She simultaneously reminded him of Natasha, and seemed to be her stark opposite.

When he had decided to try to recruit Natasha, they had been in the midst of a face off. She had been put together and deceptively nonchalant as she offered him information and her services if he would spare her. In her eyes though – there had been raw desperation, the same brand he could now see in this girl's expression through the dark hair the rain had plastered against her face and black paint surrounded her eyes.

They had been referring to her as simply "the SCYLLA rogue" for the last few months. It was only just before he was deployed to Europe to track her down that Coulson and Fury had pulled him aside and briefed him. Every bit of technology in the room was shut off and they simply handed him a file and a photograph that they immediately burned afterwards – no digital copy left.

After non-stop searching, Coulson had been able to figure out the possible identity of the girl – because _shit,_ she was barely out of her teens, she really was a _girl_ – and now believed her to be an American who had nearly been erased from the government after she was abducted three years before. Records had shown that her parents were also dead, having been declared during the same time the girl disappeared from all records.

There had been suspicions about the assassin's origins not being German, especially when it was revealed in the files recovered from the destroyed facilities that the bodies they had been finding courtesy of SCYLLA's experiments were actually kidnapped individuals from all over the world, with a concentration in the United States and Canada.

It was almost sad in a way, the thing that finally tipped them off. She had grown sentimental, and one of the false names she used was her sister's. It would have been something very quickly taught as an enormous no-no to any spy, so they were probably right in their previous assessment of her as an individual used purely for assassinations instead of espionage.

The girl in front of him was holding herself rigid, completely frozen and not averting her eyes, which stared down the barrel of the gun aimed for his chest. Before he could so much as breathe, she began speaking in a hoarse voice.

"The symbol you all wear on your uniforms lacks any subtlety. But I'd guessed it would finally be SHIELD when I was ready to stop. And I'm finished."

She shifted her stance into something loose, but not relaxed. The girl reached up and took off the utilitarian-looking black mask she'd been wearing that covered the bottom half of her face, clipping it on to her belt. Without it she simply had the black paint smudged around her eyes and looked tired. No, she looked – resigned? Without any warning, she dropped her weapon, and Clint watched as many guns and knives that were strapped on other parts of her suddenly _floated out of their holsters into the fucking air_ before also clattering to the ground.

"SHIELD would have sent you prepared. So I hope that arrow you've notched isn't metal. Metal hasn't worked yet."

She began laughing, a chilling sound that seamlessly transitioned into harsh breaths.

"This body they made won't let me. I'm _trying_ , but when I'm doing it myself metal won't go in. The forehead, in my mouth, my temple, against my heart – every kind of gun or knife and _every way I know how to kill_. Please. Please do it."

Clint felt a rush of nausea. Shit, this wasn't going how he'd expected. She'd displayed erratic behavior and exhibited incredibly violent methods and tendencies on her enemies. He'd been prepared for a face off. Not a suicidal girl begging him to kill her.

With a pang of annoyance aimed at himself – god, when did he get so soft? – he spoke into his comm. with a question in his tone, without looking away from her or moving the arrow that aimed for her heart.

"Coulson."

There was a beat of silence before Clint heard the exact same sigh of exasperated acceptance that Coulson had made years ago when he had shown up after a simple kill-order with a Red Room super-assassin in tow.

"Your decision, Barton."

Aw, shit. He had enough on his plate without getting himself involved in this, but –

"I can offer you a deal, R.J."

It had been a hunch, to use what had been listed as her nick name, one that was apparently a good call when her eyes widened, evidently caught off guard.

"That's – I was called that."

She was surprised, more so than an agent whose cover had been compromised and hadn't been expecting an enemy to have that information. No, this was wary confusion at the name itself. Clint was betting that Coulson and Fury had been right in their assumption of some sort of memory modification or brainwashing beyond simple behavioral conditioning.

"You used the name Kayla. Your sister."

The woman looked pained but almost immediately covered her expression with a blank one Clint was sure she had learned over the course of the last few years.

"She was."

Wait – did she not know –

"Your sister is alive."

It was clear a second later that he had said the wrong thing. The fence on the edge of the alley let out an ungodly screeching sound as it began to twist and warp. R.J.'s expression grew enraged and although she didn't arm herself again, Clint wasn't stupid: she could probably kill him one hundred ways with nothing more than her bare hands.

"Stop. _Stop lying to me_! I killed them all. If you don't shoot, I'll kill you too. Do it! Do it _now_ or I will kill everyone you have ever _looked at_ you fucking –"

Goading him into rash anger wasn't going to work. But frankly, Clint was too tired to deal with negotiating right now. To his relief a second later, it appeared that yes, tranquilizers effectively worked on angry super-powered assassins.


	13. Chapter 13

Bex stared at the screen Stark had pulled up that detailed "Phase 2". To be honest, she really didn't know how to feel about what had been discovered.

Banner and Stark's reactions let her know that it was apparently an appalling plan, but Bex didn't exactly agree. SHIELD was simply producing the strongest weapons they could. If the technology was out there, she didn't see why it shouldn't be utilized. Although _any_ single organization having the amount of power these weapons could provide was something that instinctively bothered her, at least it was the organization she was a part of. Well. Had been a part of before she'd quite possibly fucked herself over.

The thing that _did_ piss her off was the fact that the technology was apparently connected to HYDRA, and by extension the SCYLLA Division.

Bex had thought that she'd _finished_ all of that. HYDRA was supposed to have been destroyed, and her rampage against the SCYLLA Division should have been the end of any remnants of the organization. But now SHIELD had restored some of that technology.

Bex almost jumped when suddenly Natasha's voice rang out over her comm.

"Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Send Thor as well."

Bex whipped her head around to stare at the doctor in question, who was simply watching Stark's progress and fiddling around with the equation he had been told to perfect. Both Stark and Banner were occasionally looking at the scepter, but Bex knew that the environment she was in could turn deadly in less than a second. Without taking her eyes off of Banner, Bex slowly reached for her Glocks and held them tightly in her hand.

Under her breath, Bex accessed the comm. and reported back, "Affirmative."

Stark immediately turned to her with a suspicious expression and seemed to be suppressing anger when he said, "What was that?"

Bex spoke slowly and tried to keep her tone even when she said, "I received an order for all of us to remain in this room. We were doing that anyway."

There was a pause during which both Banner and Stark seemed to be thinking her words over – most likely gauging her sincerity, when she voiced her own concerns that had been plaguing her ever since the little alien fuckwit had been brought on board, and that _nobody was fucking addressing_.

"Loki is still controlling our agents. So where the hell are they? Something is going to go wrong soon, I swear to Christ."

Before Stark could respond, Fury strode into the room, followed by Natasha.

 **"** What are you doing, Mr. Stark?"

Everything sort of went to shit after that. It didn't help that Rogers strode in like a fucking paradigm of freedom and the American Way, dropping a huge weapon on the table like the move couldn't have caused an explosion or set it off.

 _Moron._

After Stark turned the screen towards the group and glibly revealed that Fury's dishonesty had been proven, Bex almost startled when the director suddenly whipped his head to give her a dark look.

"Agent Harmon, you allowed a civilian to break into secure files, endangering national security?"

His tone was even, but Bex stiffened and tried not to let the growing panic and anxiety take ahold of her. But when she opened her mouth to respond Stark cut in, rolling his eyes and answering for her sarcastically.

"As if I'd run a decryption program when your lapdog was watching my every move. Bathroom breaks are more than enough time for me to hack in."

Bex's expression didn't give anything away, but her shaking hands might have. Thankfully Fury had already turned and faced Stark. She – fuck, she felt _so grateful_ in that moment. It pissed her off. Bex was very, very good at looking out for herself. Being indebted to someone she didn't know very well and had only just begun developing an amused intrigue for was hell on her anxiety levels.

But when Bex saw Nat out of the corner of her eye and met her gaze, the narrowed eyes and pursed lips spelled out the fact that the other agent knew that Stark was lying. Nat had been the one around Stark the most often, what with her being sent to monitor him, and knew his tells better than Fury. But to Bex's surprise, Nat simply tilted her chin up slightly, clearly giving Bex the signal that she wouldn't be speaking up.

The argument was getting out of control and when Bex's scans revealed Banner's slowly-elevating heart rate, she took a few steps back and fell into a loose stance. Her position would allow her to leap onto the nearby table and then into the space she'd cleared in the air vents. Being prepared was the only comfort she had in this moment.

Bex was finally pulled into the conversation when Banner finished his rant about SHIELD's activities.

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

Her entire world froze when Nick Fury gestured to Thor and then herself. Without any pause or hesitation, he said in a firm voice, "Because of them."

It was as if she detached from what was happening. Bex knew dissociating from the situation was a very bad coping strategy at the moment and entirely unhelpful, but a pit of dread was growing in her stomach, making her nauseous as the full implications of what Fury had said washed over her.

So they considered her to be a… she was still an enemy they were arming themselves against. An outsider. Someone that could – that they _thought_ – would turn on them. When Bex glanced at the enormous weapon Rogers had dropped onto the table, an image came to mind of Clint aiming it at her and using a kind of ammunition she'd be unable to avoid before pulling the trigger.

Thor was protesting Fury's statement, and Bex was clenching her jaw to the degree that she was worried it might be shaking. On second thought, she realized her entire body had started to shake a little bit. Her breathing was slowly but surely speeding up, and as much as she tried to slow it down, she knew she'd have to take her oral suppressants. _Soon_.

Fury went on to casually shift her worldview and make her analyze and time anyone had spoken to her during her five years at SHIELD when he said, "But you're not the only people out there, are you? And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people that can't be controlled. We've got beings with powers humans can't match that could level cities within hours."

Oh. That was – oh.

Bex didn't _do_ heavy emotions. But when her throat tightened and her eyes felt like they were prickling she knew that she was on the edge of crying. Ew. But hell, there was nothing like being told the people around you didn't consider you to be a human being. Did Phil feel that way every time he had to clean up after her messes or give her suppressants? Did _Clint_ feel that way since the moment they'd met?

When Rogers started directing jabs at Stark, Bex was blissfully happy to be distracted by the feud, clearing her throat as quietly as possible to dispel the sensation that had been growing so no evidence would remain of her near-tears.

Everyone began talking over each other, and to her surprise Bex started feeling a little bit defensive on Stark's behalf. She figured that it was probably a guilt thing, but when Fury spoke to Thor and said, "Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?" he glanced at her.

With as much feeling as she could possibly convey, she stared into the eyes of her boss - the man whose orders she'd been following for years – and said steadily, "Fuck you, Director." Reaching into her pocket without severing their eye contact, she dry-swallowed two of her suppressants.

However she glanced to the side when she tuned into some of what was being said around her. Rogers _really_ wasn't pulling any punches and was now leaning towards Stark, saying in a derisive voice, "Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

Bex decided to intercede, not wanting the fucking morons to start a fight in an enclosed space when she was on the verge of a meltdown and steadily feeling anger growing within her. Walking towards the two, she snorted and glanced back and forth before saying in a mocking tone, "This is why I'm not a fan of teams."

Bex was honestly a bit surprised by Stars-and-Stripes when his glare turned towards her and he said in a raised voice, "No, teams don't work with you because nobody could ever want to be around you."

"Hey, hey, hey! Why're you going after Tink all of a sudden?"

Stark had grabbed Rogers's shoulder and turned him a bit to face him once again and was actually pretty fucking vicious when he said, "A hero, like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle," after he'd finished Stark turned and met Bex's eyes before going on to say in a glib voice, "No offense, Tink. You were probably a joy before the torture and experimentation."

Bex stared at him for a beat before deciding that yeah, he was an asshole similar to Clint that she'd be possibly-maybe-getting-to-know under normal circumstances, so she said in an equally casual tone, "Prickly brat, actually."

"Then we'd have gotten along."

When Banner dropped the whole suicide reveal, Bex immediately scanned him. He actually seemed to be pretty far from transforming, if her estimates were right, but the 17% chance he'd do so further into his story kept her on her feet and prepared to escape. When he picked up Loki's scepter, however, Bex trained two Glocks on him and raised all of her knives into the air, upping the chances of attack to 73%.

Because nothing had ever gone right in her goddamn life and her luck was shit, the fucking helicarrier exploded less than a minute later. Instinctively – to her surprise– Bex leaped towards Stark and shoved him to the ground. After creating what was probably best described as a force field to repel the metal flying around during the mayhem, she stood up with a small wince.

Yeah, using her powers without warning sucked.

Bex immediately glanced around and registered that Nat and Banner were no longer in the room before quickly saying "I'll go into the vents, take out our turned ones non-lethally when I can."

As she jumped onto the table and then lifted herself into the vents, she was muttering repeatedly under her breath, "I knew it, I knew it, I fucking _knew it_."

As she began crawling away towards the hallways where she'd be able to stake out and do the most damage, she could hear Stark say, "To be fair, she kind of _did_."


	14. Chapter 14

Bex was trying her best to bend the metal surrounding her in the vents without causing any noise. It was taking a ton of concentration, but if she was about to whip out her sniper she sure as hell wanted a secure nest to stay in.

As soon as she felt as though she had maneuvered the vent into a position she was feeling good about, she set up her sniper, aimed at the entrance of the hallway she was above. She had loaded the tranquilizers into her gun, but after 25 bullets, she would have to switch to her usual ammo.

Which meant she'd be killing SHIELD agents. Essentially proving everyone right who thought she'd turn on SHIELD agents for SCYLLA or some shit.

With a low curse Bex realized that the brainwashed agents were possibly on their comm link and switched it off.

Evidently the agents who were storming the helicarrier had not been informed of her mutation, strangely enough. If Bex was a megalomaniac god trying to take over the world she would tell all of her troops immediately all of the information she'd learned about the enemy, even if they were grunts.

But Bex was still a mental breakdown and a half away from trying to rule the world, so her opinion was irrelevant.

Time seemed to speed up and Bex forced herself into her usual mindset on missions - taking out targets with cold efficiency. But when she had to reload with normal bullets her thoughts were warring in her head. It would be much easier for her to take out targets when she could bend the trajectory of her ammo, but with each body that hit the floor she wondered if it was an agent she'd ever spoken to. As cruel as it was, she didn't linger over the possibility. If Clint came into the hallway it would be a different story, but Bex knew that it would be a tactical advantage to have him facing off with the other 'Avengers' - not storming through hallways like these grunts were.

A loud, echoing roar sounded out and the vent Bex was in seemed to slightly tremble. Banner had transformed, and Loki was still in - well, maybe still in the cell that had been the only way to contain the Hulk. Randomly, Bex's thoughts wandered and she wondered who had given the nickname to Banner's transformed state. They really could have been more creative, maybe made a pun out of the fact that the monstrous Mr. Hyde side of Banner for some reason turned fucking _green_ but -

The entire hellicarrier tipped and Bex could hear jets just beside the hellicarrier, so everything was going to shit. Predictably. But when no more of SHIELD's turned agents entered the area she'd been scouting, Bex tore open the vent and dropped down into the hallway. She kept both hands on her Glocks after slinging her sniped back behind her shoulder and made sure she remained silent as she trailed through the empty corridors on her way to reach the main control room. To her relief and surprise, the assault by Loki's turned soldiers seemed to have stopped. Carefully stalking into the main control room, she took note that Hill was injured but saw that the action had apparently ended for the most part, so she switched her comm back on -

\- just in time for her to hear Fury say in a tone more emotional than usual, "Agent Coulson is down."

* * *

Bex hadn't spoken since she'd been told that Phil was dead. She hadn't stopped trembling as she walked toward the room that had been the containment cell for Loki, where he had apparently been fatally wounded. When she entered, she saw a few SHIELD personnel in medical gear starting to lift his - oh god, his _dead body_ \- onto a stretcher. With absolutely no regard for them, Bex flicked her hand to the side and used a piece of rubble to throw them all away from him.

The agents looked at her in complete shock, their expressions quickly turning to fear. Oh. Well. Guess her mutant secret wasn't a secret anymore.

Bex couldn't give a shit.

In a flat voice, she turned to the men who were starting to pull themselves up and said, "I'll take his -" her voice cracked, and she couldn't call on any embarrassment when she continued "- his body to the medical bay. _Leave_."

The medical team scrambled out of the room quickly, and Bex slowly walked over to Phil, attempting to crouch beside him but instead slumping onto the floor. Her breath was coming much faster than normal and turned to heaving sobs. It wasn't at all like her panic attacks or when she lost control - this was nothing short of very-human devastation.

A high keening sound left Bex's throat and she curled in around him, gripping the lapels of his suit and burying her face in the cool skin of his neck. Her wailing echoed off the walls of the room. What was she - how was she supposed to ever be okay after this? Bex had always been careful with only caring for a handful of people in the world, but was so viciously caring when she _did_ let someone in. Phil was - Phil was _gone_ and she couldn't get him _back_ and he -

After what felt like hours, Bex leaned back and roughly wiped away her tears before standing up and putting an arm underneath his back and the back of his knees, lifting him into her arms. He was heavy and it was difficult to walk while carrying him, but letting someone else - _a stranger_ \- touch him was not an option. When she was nearly at the med bay, Bex came across Stark, whose eyes widened and expression froze.

As he looked down at Phil's body, she saw an expression of sorrow cover his face before he schooled it into something more neutral. He opened and closed his mouth a few times and Bex was honestly unsure as to what it was he was working himself up to say.

Instead of letting him speak, she stared at him and blankly asked, "Were you serious about letting me stay with you?"

Rushing to cling to a new subject, Stark immediately nodded and said, "Yes."

Bex nodded curtly and shifted Phil in her arms slightly - the burning in her biceps starting to become a problem - and responded, "I'm taking you up on your offer when this is finished."

Not letting him say anything else, Bex started walking more quickly toward to med bay. She could hear Natasha and Clint speaking in one of the rooms and made sure to avoid it, not wanting them to have to see Phil's body when Clint was likely dealing with an enormous amount of distress himself. Bex vowed to help him as best she could, but right now she had a different top priority.

It only took another minute for her to reach a room with an empty stretcher and she laid him down more gently than she had ever done anything before in her life. Every agent she had walked by had widened their eyes before nearly jumping back to get out of her way, letting her know that her mutation was already widespread knowledge, and she was thankful for the space.

As soon as Phil's body was arranged on the bed, Bex sank down slowly to sit beside him. It wasn't like the movies or books, he didn't look peaceful. He looked goddamn dead, with a massive, bloody wound in the middle of his chest. She reached out to hold his hand, to cling on to something, but as soon as her fingers brushed his cold skin she recoiled and folded her hands in her lap. Bex turned away from him and instead stared at the wall, trying to quiet her mind and let herself drift somewhere that didn't make her every heartbeat hurt.

When Rogers came by and stood in the doorway, she honestly had to clench her fists to avoid killing him. She could do it easily. It would require almost no effort to send one of the bullets in her pocket through his eye socket. Bex suspected that even super soldiers couldn't come back from that. Here was Coulson's idol, standing tall and proud and unharmed while Phil - the _better_ agent and man - was the one who died.

Before murderous rage could actually begin taking over, Rogers spoke in an authoritative voice that set her teeth on edge instinctively.

"Time to go."


End file.
